My name is Tariq Shabir, a 23-year-old from Gaza. At least, I *think* I’m 23—time stopped for me on October 7th, 2023.

‏Before the war, my family of nine had a simple but beautiful life. We owned a humble home, a small business that fed us, and hearts full of dreams. I graduated high school with honors (92%) and dreamed of studying abroad on a scholarship. But borders were sealed, so I enrolled at Al-Aqsa University in Gaza, clinging to hope.

‏Then, the bombs fell.

‏Our home is now rubble. Our business—our only income—vanished in an instant.

The peace we knew turned to terror; the laughter of my siblings to silence. Half my family and friends are gone—martyred. The other half are scattered, missing, or buried under debris. I don’t know if they’re alive.

‏Every night, I stare at the sky and beg: *Why us?* Why must children dig through ruins for food? Why must students like me bury their dreams with their dead?

‏**I’m starting this campaign to save what’s left of my family.** We need food, shelter, and a way to rebuild. But more than that, we need hope—proof that the world hasn’t forgotten Gaza.

‏You’re my only lifeline now. Please, don’t look away.

‏**Donate. Share. Pray.**

‏Even $5 can buy a loaf of bread. A repost can amplify our cry for help.

‏Thank you for being the family I still have.